


End of Eden

by maokitty



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Angst, Childhood Romance, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maokitty/pseuds/maokitty
Summary: "If I could be the king of flowers, I would allow the chrysanthemum to bloom with the peach blossom. The fragrance would fill Chang'an, and the city would be clothed in golden armour.” — Huang ChaoIn a garden, you meet a boy with petal eyes and fragrant Rukh.





	1. Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I'm moving this over from Lunaescence (which is now offline) and will be editing old chapters as I post. Each chapter is fairly short (drabble-length), so I will try to get through older updates quickly. I hope that old and new readers alike will enjoy it!
> 
> Please note that I take a lot of world-building cues from Imperial China, upon which the Kou Empire is canonically based. Every time there are specific cultural references, I will list them in the author's notes.

 

The first time you meet him, he is the Third Imperial Prince.  
  
He is a young boy with rich, blue eyes and small hands. His gaze is wide and colourful, reminding you of the petals of the forget-me-nots in your homeland. His hands look soft, and they clutch at his older sister's robes as he disappears behind her. He is not much younger than you, but he is far shyer, it seems. The only thing keeping you from feeling jealous of him, envious of his free wrists and bright Rukh, is the fact that your place has already been beaten into you.  
  
Still, you do not comment on his mannerisms when you are finally introduced to the Imperial Family, only bowing your head low when Hakuyuu Ren's gaze sweeps across your form. You are only a child, but you know that you have no business in meeting his slim, steel eyes. After all, your shirt is an ugly brown, whereas his silk robes are a brilliant white-and-grey, gleaming in the sunlight like the scales of a dragon. Even without looking at him, you know that the shimmer of his Rukh must make your own look dingy in comparison. Your forehead almost touches the dirt, and you only lift it when the Crown Prince commands you to rise.  
  
"Is this what you call a gift?" He seems angry, you think. It doesn’t show in his voice, but there are lines between his brows as he looks at the man behind you, and his large fingers are curled up into a ball. They remind you of your owner's hands, the way that they look before they hit you. You want to wilt at the angry expression, but you school yourself into stillness. Trembling will only bring pain; trembling will only bring pain. The mantra has already been engraved into your skin, leaving paper-thin scars on your back.  
  
And anyway, the man behind you does not seem worried, only spreads his hands out as he talks excitedly.  
  
"Not just a gift, your radiance. This is a great spoil of war from lands beyond Kou, a present from one of the greatest slavers in this kingdom." You could hear him licking his lips. "This girl is young, but she has a great talent in the arts of magic, and we have trained her well. If she does not cooperate, she will respond readily to the whip. As an attendant, she will be a great asset and protection to your family. And of course, she will not protest to other uses..."  
  
You do not know what he means by "other uses". Your owner has only ever told you to focus on speaking with the Rukh, making them dance with your wand. But at the words, Prince Hakuyuu's eyes narrow even more.   
  
"Very well. We will accept this gift." His voice is hard. "Hakuei! Hakuryuu!"  
  
At that, the girl and the boy behind him stand to attention. The little boy with the petal eyes, the one who had been hiding, does his best to straighten his back and look his brother in the eye. He almost seems brave like this.  
  
"This girl is the closest in age to the two of you, so I will leave her in your care." He pauses, then looks at you. Almost instinctively, your gaze drops to the ground again, focused on your bare feet and chains. You almost don't realise it when he addresses you. "Look at me."  
  
It is difficult to raise your head, but you do it eventually. The lines around his eyes are gone when you see him, and his mouth seems softer, somehow. Like this, the Crown Prince is not so intimidating, and you wonder if this is what kindness looks like.   
  
"What do you call yourself?"  
  
You hesitate, glance around. Your owner is not here to introduce you, to name you as he announces that you are one of his finest objects for sale. Unsure of what to do or say, you sweat under the weight of the prince's gaze until you finally manage to squeak out your name.  
  
Your voice is soft, but he still nods when you answer.

"I think you are of similar age as my youngest brother." He gestures to the curious boy, who is now staring at you with his forget-me-not eyes. "His name is Hakuryuu Ren. For now, you will be his personal servant."


	2. Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who gave kudos, and especially to passerby anon for their kind comment! It's nice to know that there are people interested in reading this on AO3. 💕
> 
> **World-building note:** Just a reminder that, within the Kou Empire, colours are associated with different social ranks. Slaves wear brown, whereas royal family members wear white.

The second time you meet him, he tries to smile at you.

Hakuryuu Ren owns you now, you realise. His eldest brother, without saying the words, has essentially given you to him. "Hakuryuu does not have any companions his own age," you remember the First Prince explaining to his younger sister. "It is worrying. I had Hakuren and Kouen, and you have Koumei and Kouen. But Kouha is reclusive, his mother is strange, and Hakuryuu is spending too much time around his older sister and mother. And in any case, I could not bring myself to leave that girl in that man's 'care'." His mouth had twisted strangely after that. You had not understood his expression, nor had you understood his concerns. But as a brown shirt, you understood enough to know that he had only accepted you as an accessory for his brother.

Hakuryuu Ren owns you now, but he doesn't act like it. When you lower your eyes to avoid his gaze, he sounds unhappy. 

"Hey! Please look at me."

You lift your head, hesitantly bring your gaze to match his. It is strange, you think, how different he acts when it is just him and his sister. The Crown Prince and second son are gone, attending to some important business of the kingdom, and the man who had sold you had been sent away last night. Now that they are all absent, Hakuryuu has stopped hiding behind his sister's robes, and a smile is stretched across his face. His eyes are still wide, but right now, they look more like half-moons than petals. The look is startling, and you don't know what to make of it. 

"You can just bow normally when you're around me," he says, "and to Hakuei, too. My brother told me that you were given to us because you're a magician, but you're really young, so you don't have to do any spellcasting and probably won't be ordered into battle."

From her seat, his sister laughs. Her giggle is pretty, like dancing chimes, and her beauty almost seems otherworldly. You are awed by both of them, and can't take your eyes off the honest glow of the small birds humming about them.

"I've never seen you so talkative, Hakuryuu," she remarks.

At that, the boy in front of you flushes. He looks away, suddenly uninterested in meeting your eyes. You tilt your head. Have you done something wrong?

If you have, though, Hakuei doesn't seem angry. Instead, she looks at you, gives you a smile that makes her eyes take the same crescent shape that Hakuryuu's had been. It is different from the smiles to which you are accustomed, untwisted by the cruelty of the slavers from home. 

"You'll have to forgive my brother for his enthusiasm. He's never known someone his own age. Why don't the two of you go out and play in the gardens?"

"Play?" you ask, now thoroughly confused. You cannot _play_ with the Third Prince, not when you are wearing a brown shirt. 

Hakuryuu, on the other hand, only brightens at the suggestion. He straightens his back, and the smile returns to his face as he tugs at one of your sleeves.

"Let's go!" he exclaims, and you are so taken by the excitement in his eyes that you forget to protest, only running with him as he makes his way to the door.


	3. Dew

Prince Hakuryuu, you come to learn, is a bit of a crybaby.

Even though you are a mere slave, you have to censor your words around him. He clings to his mother and his sister whenever they're around and watches his father walk about the halls with a slack jaw. He tries his best to copy the serious expressions and intimidating poses of his eldest brother, but usually ends up shrinking behind Hakuei when there are strangers about. He likes it when Hakuren picks him up and ruffles his hair, and turns a peculiar hue of red whenever his second eldest brother calls you his "pretty, new friend". (You do not know why he does this, but it always makes you squirm and look away.)  
  
He dislikes your brown shirt, and insists that you wear instead wear the garbs of a servant. You think it might have something to do with the “laws of slavery”, which Hakuryuu often ponders. Today, he speaks of it while the two of you play in the gardens, parroting his eldest brother’s words.

"He says that the laws are _inhumane,_ " Hakuryuu recites, putting emphasis on the last term, one that he has just recently learned. "Apparently, they are ' _motivation for revolt'_  among the people, so Hakuyuu wants to change them. With the new laws, people will be freed after five years, and can't be mistreated."  
  
"Hmm." Your old master had never bothered to give you any kind of education. Many of Hakuryuu’s words sound foreign to your ear. "…I didn't really understand that, Prince Hakuryuu.” You crouch down, looking carefully at the dirt on your feet. “Sorry. I'm not that smart."  
  
"Don't say that!" he scolds, looking up from his hard work. He has gathered a small pile of pebbles, and they are now lying by his feet, waiting to be tossed into the brook snaking around the garden. You start for him, picking up one of the small stones and letting it fall from your hand. It breaks the limpid water, and beneath its surface, you can see gold-and-white fish scattering. The brook shimmers with their fleeing tails, and you cannot help but feel a little lonely as they swim away.  
  
"Poor things," you murmur, but Hakuryuu only looks away. At this, you frown. "Have I done something wrong, my prince?"  
  
"You called yourself dumb again." His voice is quiet. "I don't like it when you do that."  
  
"But that’s what I _am,_ my lord."  _And only worth my skills as a magician. I'm not fit to eat. I'm not fit to drink. I will not be sold for my smile._  Back with your old master, you would have continued to say all of those things, because not saying them would have been insolence, and the price of insolence is pain. But you know that Hakuryuu dislikes such words, and so you keep yourself silent, your eyes downcast. 

For a moment, you can only hear the babbling brook. And then—  
  
"Hey. Please look at me."  
  
His voice surprises you. It reminds you a little bit of all the times that you begged your master for dinner or forgiveness. This is what it is like to have someone plead to you, and you realise that you dislike it. Against your training, you lift your eyes, and you almost flinch when you see Hakuryuu's outstretched hand, expecting him to strike you. But his fingers are gentle when they touch your trembling hand, resting tenderly against your rough skin. His voice is as equally soft.  
  
"I know you're my servant, but I also want us to be friends."  
  
Some of his Rukh are drifting close to you, their tiny feathers almost like golden flowers. You tilt your head and watch the chrysanthemum petals float about him.   
  
"...my brother told me that you were  _mistreated_  and  _abused_  by your old master. Is that right?"   
  
You do not know what either word means, so you nod, silent. If Prince Hakuyuu has made a statement, it is not your place to deny it.   
  
"Well, my brother and I aren't like him.” He pauses, almost sounding uncertain. “You know that, right? That I want things for you to be different here? I won’t let anyone hurt you here, and I won’t let you say things like that."  
  
He blinks, and you think you catch a glimpse of dew among the flowers. You nod again, this time not because Hakuryuu is a prince and you are a slave, but because your  _friend_  is a crybaby, and you do not wish to see him hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Cultural notes:**  
>  \- Strictly speaking, Hakuryuu should be referring to Hakuyuu as "Eldest Brother" or "Brother Hakuyuu", but there's no way of translating that in English without it sounding awkward, so I have simplified things in the dialogue by just using Hakuyuu's name. (Correct it in your minds!)  
> \- This story will use a lot of flowers in the imagery and symbolism. Many of the featured plants were culturally significant in Imperial China. I will describe them whenever they come up!  
> \- This chapter mentioned chrysanthemums, which carried great significance in Imperial China. They were associated with nobility, tenacity, and autumn. They are commonly characterized as being gold in colour, although they exist in all varieties. The quotation in the summary is a translation of a poem referencing chrysanthemums written by [Huang Chao](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huang_Chao), a rebel leader during the Tang dynasty.


	4. Claw-root

With time, you become Hakuryuu's confidant.   
  
"Lord Kouen is a little scary," the little prince tells you one day, idly ripping grass and flowers out from the earth, the blooms by his feet. He is ruining the look of the garden, you think, and it will be your job to fix it, lest you be punished for it. You decide to get to work, and as Hakuryuu destroys, you begin to create. Your hold your hand out above a patch of dirt, using your magoi to coax the roots out of the seeds buried in the earth. Hakuryuu can't see the way that the Rukh around you are glowing a strange violet, and is oblivious to your quiet work, paying mind only to your voice.   
  
"Scary?" You tilt your head. You haven't seen much of Hakuryuu's eldest cousin, and you don't know why a prince should be scared of someone beneath him in rank. Then again, the boy keeps a slave as his friend and seems to treat his brother more like the emperor than he does his own father, so perhaps he is just strange.   
  
As always, you humour his strangeness.   
  
"I guess he seems very serious." As you speak, you can feel the struggle of the plants buried in the dirt. They are still too shy to rise from the ground, but you persist anyway. "And he's not quite as kind as, say, Prince Hakuren. But he and Princess Hakuei are friends, aren't they?"  
  
"Yes." Hakuryuu sighs. "He's in service to my big sister. I guess it’s odd that I'm afraid of him."  
  
You smile at that. "It's all right, my prince. I'm actually afraid of a lot of things."  
  
He glances at you, the skeptical look on his face telling you that there is surely nobody as hopeless as himself. "Like what?"  
  
"Hmm..." You have to think about it for a moment, search for the best way to phrase it. "I guess I'm afraid of being hurt."  
  
"Ehh? But I wouldn't like to be hurt either. I don't think anyone likes to be hurt. Hakuei told me so."   
  
"Yes, of course. Princess Hakuei is correct. But… I'm  _really_  afraid of it. More than other people, I think." And you think it is true: within the palace, you have yet to meet anyone as afraid of touch as you. You still want to flinch each time someone raises their hand near you, even if it's just to wave. You still want to hide whenever you hear heavy footsteps on the wooden panels of the palace, even if they are accompanied by Prince Hakuren's happy greetings. The stink of rice wine makes you cringe, and nightfall makes you shrink beneath your covers, hiding from angry hands that are long gone.   
  
It feels like the only person who does not make you quiver is Hakuryuu, and that is because Hakuryuu is a young boy, a crybaby, your only friend. You pause, and try to imagine what he'll look like as an adult. You try to imagine what he'll look like when he's old and angry, and how much his fist might hurt in a beating. It makes you look away. "And I'm afraid of grown up men."  
  
"Eh?" Hakuryuu's eyebrows are knotting together. "Don't be! I'm going to be an adult someday."  
  
"Yes. That's true." You close your eyes and will away thoughts of Prince Hakuryuu's blows. "You’d never hurt me."  
  
"Never," Hakuryuu affirms, his Rukh fluttering with the sheer honesty of his voice. It brings up a strange feeling in your chest, and you have to stop your lips from curling up. You don't know why, but it feels as though a smile right now would be an embarrassment, something to be hidden. Ignorant of your battle with your feelings, Hakuryuu continues, apparently unashamed of his own grin. "In fact! I'll be a warrior someday, like Hakuren and Hakuyuu. Then I'll be able to protect everyone, like my mother, and my sister, and you."  
  
Your eyes open at the declaration. " _Me?_ "   
  
"You!" He points at you as he smiles, as though the motion will make his claim any less strange. You want to correct him, tell him that someday, _you_ will be the one protecting him, because that is your only real purpose in this palace. But the moment passes when his hand drops, the small boy beginning to wilt. You look at him curiously, trying to decipher the new expression on his face. It reminds you a little bit of yourself, especially back in the days when Hakuryuu had first tried to get you to speak freely and call him your friend. He is unsure of himself, you realise.  
  
"My prince?"  
  
He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his eyes fixed on the glassy pond. "Hey..." He looks around, as though checking for intruders, and then Hakuryuu's voice drops to a whisper. "I kind of have a secret. Only my mom knows. You won't tell this to anyone, right?"  
  
You tilt your head, confused. You are his personal servant, and everything that he says to you is naturally in confidence. You have been trained to know that, but perhaps Hakuryuu has not, you reason with yourself. Carefully, you reassure him: "Of course not. I won't tell anyone anything about you, unless you want me to."  
  
"Okay." He shifts over along the ground until he's closer to you, and leans down so that his mouth is right next to your ear. His breath tickles you, and makes you want to squirm. The feeling is not exactly bad, but it  _is_  a little strange. Still, you don't draw away. You're his friend, and his slave, so you have to do whatever he wants, you remind yourself, and you force yourself to listen to his words instead of giggling at the sensation.  
  
"I cried after having a nightmare a week ago."  
  
That makes the laughter die in your throat. " _Really?_ "  
  
He draws back, ashamed. "I know. I'm a coward."  
  
"No, no." Biting your lip, you wonder what you can say to console Hakuryuu. Finally, you admit, "I've cried after having some dreams too. It's not that strange."  
  
It is, of course, the complete truth. All children have nightmares, you remember the older slavegirls telling you, and you have had plenty enough to attest to that. You've cried many times: in your sleep, after waking, before drifting off. It is never pleasant, and it makes you worry a little bit for your prince. You nearly lose concentration, and beneath your fingers, you feel the roots almost shrivel in upon themselves. Stubbornly channeling more of your  _ki_  into them, you ask, "What did you dream about?"  
  
Hakuryuu looks away again, too buried in his fears to notice the green sprouting up out of the dirt. "I dreamt that enemies killed my whole family," he says, gazing at a cluster of red spider lilies. "Only my sister and I were left alive. My mother told me that nothing like that would ever happen, but I haven't stopped having that nightmare ever since. I couldn't do anything it. I couldn't protect anyone, and they all died, one by one. And then..."  
  
"And then?"  
  
His voice becomes low again, quiet as though there are spies afoot. "I didn't tell my mother about this part, but you were in my dream too. I couldn't see who killed you, but I couldn't do anything to save you. You died, and then I woke up." Looking miserable, Hakuryuu leans down and fidgets with the blades of grass on the floor, avoiding your gaze.  
  
"Oh..." Unsure what to say, you look down and, despite Prince Hakuryuu's frequent reassurances of your intellect, feel slower than ever.  
  
He doesn't seem to mind the silence, only sighing. "I just wish those dreams would stop. And... hey." His eyes narrow, and then he is looking up again. "Are you... are you doing something to the grass?"  
  
"Huh?" You look down at your hand, at the tall blades of grass sprouting around it. The roots are also beginning to spill out of the dirt and onto the paved path, forcing their way through the cracks in the bricks beneath you, searching hungrily for more room. "Oh,  _no!_ " Withdrawing your hand, you feel your eyes go wide. Though you're grateful for the distraction from the young prince's worries, you inevitably begin to cringe at your mistake. "I only wanted to fix the garden... I'm sorry, Prince Hakuryuu. I ruined it."   
  
"Ruined?" He crouches down to inspect the brown-and-white roots, hairy and long. "No, this is really amazing. What did you do?"  
  
You are confused, but you continue to humour him. "I used life magic to make the seeds in the dirt grow. But I got carried away and put too much magoi into them... The roots of this plant are normally long, and I guess with all my magoi, they got even  _longer_." Frowning, you inspect the ruined path that you are sitting on, wondering if you are skilled enough to force the intrusive growth back with magic. "Are you sure this is okay?"  
  
"Yes, yes." He waves you off, instead plucking out yet another leaf from one of the newly flowering plants, studying it. Your hard work now in his hands, you frown.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Looking at the plant. It's very strange." He closes his eyes as he sniffs it, then looks back to you. "It's fragrant."  
  
"Oh." You collect all of the grass that Hakuryuu has carelessly picked out, bundling it in your small hands. "You're right about that, my prince. The claw-root plant is often used as an herb. I could actually even take these back and make tea out of them." You put a finger to your chin. "It's supposed to be very soothing. Maybe it'll help you if you drink it before bed. It'll get you to relax, and then you won't have those nightmares anymore."  
  
For a moment, he is quiet. It makes you look up at him, doubtful, wondering if you have slipped up somewhere and made an improper suggestion.

But Hakuryuu is once more avoiding your gaze. He is looking down, and his fingers are playing with one another, entwining with the claw-root as he fidgets. "Ah, hmm. That could be a good idea... Do you think that you could bring me tea every night, then?" His head lowers even more, and it makes you want to scratch your head.  _He is so bizarre,_  you think,  _to lower his head to someone like me._  
  
Still, you humour him. "Of course. I'm your servant."  
  
"T-Thank you!"  
  
Hakuryuu refuses to look at you, but from the Rukh around him, you know that he is neither angry nor sad. Still, you can't quite read them. The birds are alight with a strange glow today, a pink hue to their feathers. Today, they look like peach blossoms instead of chrysanthemums, and you are not sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a comment if you did; would love to know your thoughts. :)
> 
> **Cultural notes:**  
>  • **Claw-root herb** : mentioned pretty famously in Hakuryuu's arc in Magi, though you may remember it by a [different name](https://magi.fandom.com/wiki/Netsumegusa)!  
> • Peach blossoms are also mentioned in one translation of Huang Chao's poem (in the summary)  
> • Red spider lilies are associated with death and Hell in Chinese (and Japanese!) Buddhism


	5. Herb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again everyone! Thanks to those who left kudos! I know things are slow right now, but I hope people are enjoying this. 💕
> 
>  **Cultural notes:**  
>  -"Sing-song girls" is a term that (Western) foreigners called high class, Chinese courtesans. It emerged during the modern/late Imperial era. Your former master is a foreigner to Kou, hence his use of the term.  
> \- a reminder that huang is the name of the Kou Empire's currency.

One night, as you bring tea to Hakuryuu, you encounter a peculiar memory.  
  
You once had a salve applied to your face. Your old master had been wearing an ornate ring when he punched you, and the metal had caught on your skin, cutting it. He had cursed afterwards, and ordered one of the other slaves to make a healing mixture for the cut from ginseng, red fungus, and pear blossoms. "You're lucky that your face isn't bad, or else I'd just let that wound fester," you remember him spitting at you. Then, as he had grabbed you by the neck and smeared the medicine onto your cheek, he continued to put you in your place. He isn't doing this to help you, he had kept saying. He is only doing this to help himself, to keep your  _price_  from deflating.  
  
The balm had a stench, made you pinch your nose. It had seared you, made your cut burn, hotter than the tears in your eyes. 

For so many years, this had been the gentlest treatment your face had ever received. _This_ had been the most care with which anyone had ever touched your cheeks.

It had been—until now.  
  
Now, there is no ointment on your cheeks, no cut in your skin. There is no burn—only the soft warmth of your flush. There is only Hakuryuu's chapped lips. His touch is soft, not at all like the calloused hands of your master. You catch a whiff of his breath, fragrant from the claw-root tea, nothing like pear blossoms and ginseng. It makes your nostrils flare, and your heart race in your chest like a rabbit.   
  
After a moment, he pulls away, catches a glimpse of your face. Hakuryuu's expression becomes odd, and he seems as though he is about to burst.  
  
The explanation tumbles out of him. "My mother does that to me a lot, and I see Hakuren doing that with his lady friend sometimes." Hakuryuu is talking so fast that, once or twice, his tongue twists up and he trips over his own words. That is a wonder, because he has all the best scholars teaching him, and he is trained to speak well. Stuttering is what  _you_  should be doing, but it interrupts him as he continues. "My mother just laughed when I asked her about it, but Hakuren told me that I should only do it with girls I really… _really_ like, to make them happy. You... you looked sad, and you're my friend, and I really like you, so I wanted to make you happy."  
  
"Oh." You open and close your mouth several times, feeling like a fish. "I wasn't sad, just sleepy. But thank you, my prince."

You kick at the floor, looking down, not sure what to say. Prince Hakuren has a very different understanding of kisses from you. You don't know anything about mothers with their sons, or men with their lady friends, but you remember the many times you saw girls kissing your old master, giggling as he threw huang into the air, yelling drunkenly about how much he loved them.  _Beautiful sing-song girls,_  he had called them, but you are not singing, and Hakuryuu is still a boy, a little bit younger than you, and he is not throwing money anywhere.  
  
The older slavegirls had told you stories as well, you remember. You can still recite most of them, because most of them were the same. A poor but clever girl—a peasant, a slave, a servant—charms a handsome prince, whom rescues her from her squalorous fate. The story draws to a close when she becomes the queen of a properous kingdom, or the mother of blessed children, and at this point, the woman doing the storytelling ends it with a wistful sigh.   
  
You are poor, but you are not clever, and you're not sure if you want to sigh like all of those older women. You shift uncomfortably, acutely aware that the longer you are silent, the more anxious Hakuryuu will get.  
  
"…it did make me happy," you finally decide, and then you bow deeply, because for some reason, you feel like you cannot meet his eyes. You leave the room quickly, and on your way out, you catch a glimpse of Hakuryuu's face: relieved, exhausted, still a little bit red. You do not know why he looks like that, and briefly, you wonder if he, too, does not know what to make of this salve on your face.


	6. Chrysanthemum

In the days following your first kiss, you and Hakuryuu act as though it never happened. You return to your innocuous routine of playing in the Imperial Garden whenever Hakuryuu is free and willing. When is he engaged in his lessons, you are preoccupied with your own. The white-and-blue priests from Al-Thamen are harsh teachers, and if you weren't so used to the impatience and backhand of your old master, then you would surely be spending each night crying. Between the lessons and garden adventures, the grandest bits of your small lives, both of you seem to forget that anything peculiar has ever happened.  
  
Then, one day, you go to Hakuryuu's room after a calligraphy lesson.  
  
The servingwomen downstairs have insisted that you begin to do regular tasks for the prince. "Make yourself of use, slave, if you are not able to properly cast spells yet," you remember them telling you, thin-lipped and disapproving. You had only nodded and bowed. Magic or menial work— it makes no difference to you either way, so you do not mind carrying a woven basket up to his room, tasked with collecting his dirty and worn clothing.   
  
He is still in his chambers when you get there, dragging the brush across the paper, his eyes nearly crossed in concentration. You cannot read, and the nuance of his art is lost on you, so you find yourself playing with a flowering weed plucked from the gardens. The wildflower's petals are blue, and reminds you a little bit of Hakuryuu's eyes, a little bit of the scenery back home. Your fingers glow as you make the petals retreat into a bud, then bloom again, then shrink again, then flower again. Living, then dying. Awake, then sleeping.   
  
"Done!" Hakuryuu's sudden exclamation is enough to make you drop the flower. "Oh. I'm sorry." He reaches down, picks it up and hands it to you. "Do you want it back?"  
  
"It's fine. It's not important to me." By now, your interest in the petals is lost, and you are instead craning over his shoulder to look at the piece that he has been working on.  
  
He beams at you, expectant. "It's for you!"  
  
"I..." You look down, flushing. "I can't read." Trying not to be rude, you study the characters on the scroll, staring at them with all the scholarly intent that you can manage. The brush strokes seem to dance across the page, alive, coding for some secret that you cannot understand. Even an uneducated person like yourself can tell that the work is beautiful, and you say so out loud.  
  
"Thank you!" Hakuryuu tilts his head to the side. "But I don't think you'd be able to understand it even if you could read. My teacher always says that I have talent, but my writing gets too messy." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I chose a poem about flowers, because you use life magic, and you seem to really like plants."  
  
You smile. "I guess I do play with them a lot. They're fun." You look back to the scroll, interested. "What does the poem say?"  
  
He gives you a cheeky look. "Learn to read. Then you'll know."  
  
Frowning, you tilt your head to the side. "Is this a jest, Prince Hakuryuu? I'm a servant. I can't just  _learn_  to read."  
  
"You're  _my_  servant, and you have to follow  _my_  orders. So you'll learn how to read, along with many other things." Hakuryuu's smile is so bright that you are tempted to look away. The boy is so honest, you realise, that this could never be any kind of joke, let alone a cruel one. "I bet you'd like the poem a lot, you know," he continues to try and coax you, still innocuous, still well-intentioned. "It's about Chang'an. You're from there, right?  
  
It takes you a few moments to reply, to sort out your answer. It is a difficult question for you, after all.

"Yes... in a sense... that's where I lived before I came here, with my old master. But I was born elsewhere." You sit down beside him, still admiring the writing. "I don't like my old master, but I did like Chang'an. It was a nice place."  
  
"Nicer than the palace?" Hakuryuu inquires, and now you can hear a hint of worry in his voice.  
  
"No." It is a wonder that Hakuryuu could ever fear that, you think. "The palace is much nicer. And I definitely like you a lot more than my old master."  
  
He still seems hesitant. "So this makes you happy?"  
  
"Yes." You reach out, and your fingers brush the scroll delicately, as though it will crumble under the weight of your small hand. You're not sure if you've ever touched paper before this, you realise. Maybe once or twice, when your master had forced you to carry his belongings to-and-fro. But Prince Hakuryuu has gifted this to you, and now it is your own possession, and you can put your hands to this paper whenever you please. "It makes me very glad."  
  
The grin is back. "And you'll learn how to read?"  
  
Your brows come ever so slightly closer together, but you give the slightest of nods anyway. "Yes. I will."  
  
Smiling, he reaches out and puts his hand on yours. He has done this once before, you remember, when he was asking you to please speak more nicely about yourself. His fingers are still gentle, and you think you like how they feel on your skin. And though you are still looking at the scroll in front of you, out of the corner of your eye, you can see the Rukh in the air, surrounding you like golden armour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Cultural note:** The poem in question is the one quoted in the summary! Additionally, calligraphy was an art practiced by many literati in Imperial China. Check out my [calligraphy headcanons for the Ren sibs!](https://phen0l.tumblr.com/post/183990481658/devilmaycreys-blog-blog-i-spent-my-morning)


	7. Pruned

Moments after the two of you begin to hold hands, Prince Hakuren catches you.  
  
You should have withdrawn your hands the moment you heard his footsteps. You should have shrunk back from each other when he opened the door. You should have denied it when he began to scratch the back of his head and asked if the two of you "liked" each other—whatever that meant.  
  
But you haven't done any of those things, and now Hakuren is crossing his arms, studying the both of you. You squirm under his gaze, and that is what finally makes you pull your hand away. There's nothing wrong with kissing, you think defiantly, if you're supposed to do it with people you like. And it feels nice when Hakuryuu holds your hand, not at all wrong or something at which to be gawked. You wouldn't let anyone else do it, because nobody else is your friend.   
  
And his last question, you think, is the strangest yet: isn't it normal for friends to like one another?   
  
Eventually, Hakuren sighs, and his face splits into a grin.   
  
"Ahh, what can you do? I guess I was like you at your age, Hakuryuu. At least you're not turning out to be like Hakuyuu."  
  
"What's wrong with being like him?" Hakuryuu asks, confusion growing in his eyes.   
  
Hakuren clears his throat, looks as though he's about to tell a long and old tale. "Well, unlike you and I, he never gets any pretty lady friends, except for the ones he's forced to spend time with. He's too busy helping father with his campaigns, or fighting those priests on revising all those laws. No kisses for him." Hakuren winks at you, and you just stare, not understanding. His large smile makes you think of a mischievous fox, self-satisfied and enjoying some joke that is beyond you. You turn to Hakuryuu, wondering if your friend comprehends the situation any more than you, but you only find him looking away, scarlet-faced.   
  
"Prince Hakuryuu?" you ask, uncertain. "Are you okay?"  
  
Hakuren laughs loudly at the question, and he puts his hands onto his waist. "Don't worry about him. He's more than okay, trust me. I'll leave you two alone but hey, Hakuryuu—if she makes you that red, you should talk to mother about her, all right? Unless she's talked to you about girls already?" He puts a finger to his chin. "I don't think I got that lecture until later on, but I guess I can't really remember anymore."  
  
" _Lecture?_ " Hakuryuu rubs at his eyes, sighing. "But I don't want more lessons..."  
  
His elder brother laughs at that, and again, you miss the jest. "Yeah, but this one is important." Hakuren turns to leave, but pauses to glance back at the two of you. When his eyes come to rest on you, the hearty grin on his face falters. "Really, Hakuryuu. Be good and ask mother about it, all right?"  
  
Defeated, Hakuryuu nods. "Yes, brother."  
  
Giving an approving hum, Hakuren waves his hand as he leaves.   
  
"And try not to break her heart!"  
  
You put a hand on your chest and tilt your head. His last statement is more confusing than anything else he has said tonight. You have never heard such an expression. Hearts don't break, you think. They only stop beating.


	8. Wilting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have commented and given kudos to this fic! Life has been busy but I really want to get out the rest of the first arc soon...

Hakuryuu is in his room, staring at the wildflower that he has been keeping in his room. It has been so long since you picked it out of the dirt that it is leaning over, its petals too heavy for its haggard stem. He seems deep in his meditation over this little flower, and you hope that your interruption will not bother him.  
  
"Prince Hakuryuu." You bow your head. Some of the other personal attendants, the friendly servants of princes and princesses and lesser nobles, have taught you the words that you should say upon greeting him, and you struggle to remember them as you speak: "Forgive me for the intrusion. I have not seen you for some time now. I wanted to see if you would require my services." The formal speech lurches on your tongue, clumsy and unfitting, but rather than taunting you, Hakuryuu only gives you a little smile.

“There’s nothing to be forgiven,” he says brightly, beaming. “But I _did_ want to ask you for a favour.”

“I’m happy to do anything for you, my prince. What do you need?”

He gestures to the flower that he’d been contemplating.  
  
"Do you think you could make it better?" You bite your lip when you notice its shrunken, blue petals. You do not want to disappoint Hakuryuu, but the flower is dying, and life magic can only do so much.  
  
"I can try, my prince, but nothing lives forever. Would you like me to do it now?"  
  
"No, that's okay. Sit with me." He taps at the spot next to him on the floor. Slowly, unsure, you bring yourself to sit next to him, trying to ignore the many social rules that you have been taught in the kitchens.  
  
"It has been a long time. Have you been busy, my prince?" Staring at your fingers as you play with them, you try not to meet his eyes when you admit, "I... I miss playing in the garden with you."  
  
"Me too." Hakuryuu sighs, and his eyelids fall. The petals have gone, disappeared. "I’m sorry—I didn’t want to be away from you for so long! It’s just… I had a talk with my mother, and she doesn't think that I should be kissing you."  
  
You tilt your head. "No?" You don't know why, but there's a fluttering in the birds around you, their feathers ruffling with the strange turning in your gut.   
  
"No. I don't really get it. She says it's something that we can try when we've grown more. And then she started talking to me about how, as a prince, I'm going to have to marry a noblewoman someday, and that I can keep you as a friend, but that's something we'll only be able to talk about when we're adults." He scratches his head. "I don't understand what marriage has to do with keeping friends, but she told me that I'd learn when I get a bit older."  
  
_You_  understand, of course. You know a little bit about what marriage is, that it's what noblemen and slaves do in fairy tales, but not real life. In real life, there is  _concubinage_. You don't know exactly what a  _concubine_  is, but it may have something to do with the sing-song girls on your old master's drunk arms, grabbing at his huang and giggling at his rice wine kisses. Many of the slavegirls had been sold to become one, you can recall, and they had been matched to their smelly, old men based on how worthy their beauty had been for their status. The ugliest ones had been cast into prostitution, and you can still remember the sight of black tears running down their moon-white faces.   
  
You don't know if you'll ever be beautiful enough to be a  _concubine_  for the fourth prince, whether he'd buy you for the highest bidder or send you away, but it's not your place to ask, and it's not your place to hope for or against it. Instead, you keep to what Hakuryuu knows.   
  
"Oh." Your voice is casual, and you study him as you speak, still-faced. "So we can still friends?"  
  
Hakuryuu grins, and his wide petal eyes are back. "Yes! We can still be friends." Something warm clutches your fingers, and it makes your heart feel like a rabbit again, and you look down, even though you already know what it is. "And my mother never said anything about holding hands."  
  
"Oh." It takes effort to keep your voice steady. "That's good."   
  
"That makes you happy?"  


It takes you a few moments to untangle the knots in your stomach and the strings around your heart, but eventually, you nod.

  
"It makes me very glad."  
  
You are young, but you know that nothing lives forever. You know that as an eighth-type magician, as a former slaver's ware, and as a spoil of war. To hope for anything to last, to cling onto anyone—any of your masters, or those crying, castaway girls—is folly. Regardless, you can't stop your fingers from curling around Hakuryuu's, or the way that your body leans into his. Nothing lives forever, but you are young, and so you wonder if you can spend the rest of eternity in the garden with him, throwing pebbles at goldfish and holding hands.


	9. Beansprout

One day, it strikes you how close you have become to the Imperial Princes of Kou.  
   
You are in the garden again, this time with Hakuryuu and Hakuren. The two brothers busy with one another, you are left to stand by yourself, watching them as you idly wave your new wand to-and-fro. The peach wood stick in your hands, nearly as long as one of your arms, swings in the air as the lotuses in the pond behind you bloom and wilt to its steady beat. Life and death, awake and asleep. Your magoi coaxes the flowers to dance to your mantra.  _Nothing lives forever,_  you think, even as you watch the youthful princes play. The words cannot seem to leave your mind these days.  
   
Both Hakuren and Hakuryuu are far too busy to pay mind to your strange flower spells, and the latter is growing too used to them anyway. Hakuryuu's focus is all in his crouching brother right now: Hakuren holds up an open palm before Hakuryuu, grins and yells, "All right, show me what you got!"  
   
Hakuryuu plants his feet firmly into the ground and closes his eyes as he pulls back his fist. "Rraaarghhh!!" he yells as he punches his brother's palm.  
   
"Whoa!" Prince Hakuren's eyes go wide. "You're getting strong, kiddo!" He turns back to face you. "Almost knocked me right over!"  
   
Each time Hakuren comments to you, includes you, you are always surprised. You never expect it, no matter how many times he does it, so all you can ever do is nod dumbly. "He will make a fine warrior some day," you add this time, not wanting to seem rude. Your voice is small, but Hakuryuu's smile is wide.  
   
"Two years 'til I start training! Then I'll be able to protect you, and help my brothers!"  
   
You don't need protection, you want to tell him, because you are training and learning how to fight for  _him_. But with the elder brother present, your voice dies in its throat. Your comment is lost to Hakuren's laughter, catches on your hesitant tongue as he runs his hand through his youngest sibling's hair and makes a mess of it. "Slow down, little prince. You haven't even picked a weapon yet."  
   
"I'll use a Kou-style sabre, like you! But even larger!"  
   
Hakuren's go wide. "Even bigger than this?" He gestures to the hefty weapon on his back. "But this thing is already twice as big as you!"   
  
Hakuryuu's cheeks swell in a pout, and you can't help it—your face splits into a smile, and you have to cover the expression with a hand.   
  
He catches the near laugh, and his cheeks bloat to an even bigger size. "Hey! Don't laugh at me!" He yells your name impatiently, and if the two of you were older, Hakuren might have scolded you for impudence, but as it is, he takes one look at you and breaks into his characteristic, hearty laughter.   
  
"You should smile more. You're much prettier like that." He puts a hand on Hakuryuu's shoulder. "I bet it'd make my younger brother happier."  
  
" _Hakuren!"_  The boy's frustrated whine elicits another laugh. "Don't say that!" Hakuryuu tries to swipe at Hakuren's face, but his little hand is caught by a much larger one. You would have been paying more attention, except you catch a small flock of golden birds flying by. They flutter about the Second Prince for a moment, and seem to warble in Hakuren's ear, and then they are off again, dispersing in the wind. Tilting your head, you watch the eldest brother carefully: he pauses for the slightest of moments, and then he is looking at you.  
  
To his credit, his voice gives nothing strange away. "All right, all right. You're embarrassed because you like her, right?"   
  
"No!"  
  
Blinking, you look down. You're already used to the Fourth Prince vehemently denying any sort of affection for you, but it does make your chest ache a little. You suppose that nobles must keep up appearances, even ones as young as Hakuryuu, and even ones who are your friends. Glancing back up, you notice that, unlike yourself, Hakuren is unaffected by his brother's reply, his smile only stretching more across his face. He leans toward Hakuryuu, whispering loudly as the two look over at you.  
  
"You're jealous because I'm being friendly to her?"  
  
Hakuryuu gapes at his brother, gives him the most betrayed look that you've ever seen in your seven years of life. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then finally yells,  _"No!"_  
  
"Oh, good." Hakuren pulls away, and the smile has fallen off his face. He seems serious now, as he approaches you, and you can't help but feel the grip around on your wand tighten as he comes to stand behind you. "Well. If you aren't jealous, then I guess that Beansprout here is mine, now."  
  
You can't help yourself. "'Beansprout?'" you ask, both eyebrows raised. Your voice is soft, but Hakuren's sharp ears catches it. His smile returns when he nods toward you.  
  
"Yeah! Because you're adorably small, and you play with plants a lot. If you have no problems with it, it'll be my petname for you."   
  
"Ehhh?!" By now, Hakuryuu's eyes are glimmering with a dangerous sheen. You don't quite understand what's going on, but you  _can_  tell that your prince looks ready to start crying. "No! You can't call her that."  
  
At the words, the serious expression returns to Hakuren, the lines between his brows deepening. "Forgive me, little brother, but I will. And now, I'm going to steal her away. Prince Hakuyuu has ordered me to take this maiden away to my room." His voice grows loud. "And after that, she'll stay with me... never to return!"   
  
You tilt your head back and crane your neck. Hakuren towers above you, and you have to count for several seconds before you can bring yourself to tug on the leg of his pants.   
  
"Ahh... Prince Hakuren?"   
  
At that, he glances down at you, and maybe your expression is fearful, because next thing you know, he's crouching down and putting his hands on your shoulders. He winks, again reminding you of some too-clever-fox, before leaning into you and whispering at your ear.   
  
"Don't worry, Beansprout. I'll return you to your prince. I'm just playing a harmless joke."  
  
You almost forget to stop staring at the Second Prince, puzzled, but you tear your eyes away when Hakuryuu explodes in front of the two of you.   
  
" _Hakuren!_ " His hands are clutched into little fists, and his face is a ruddy pink. " _Please_  stop!"


	10. Chang'an

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I'm working on this project again, so here's the next reworked chapter. Posting chapters 11 and 12 tonight as well!

**Chapter 10: Chang’an**

 

Prince Hakuren's room is all luxuries and fanfare, much like the opulent private chambers in the house of your former master, where he had entertained his sing-song girls and gambled with his friends. You remember that, once, an attendant commented that Hakuren's room is as hungry for wealth and power as the Second Prince himself. "Lined with all these swords and things, half of 'em solid gold. Not a wonder, since the boy is so power-hungry," she had whispered, just moments before being berated by her senior for her belligerent talk.  
  
Nevertheless, you now understand her words.

You stare at the decorative blades with their gilded hilts, at the folding fans that are mounted on the walls, at the paintings of songbirds and war on their creased surfaces. Even his bed is a sight, the sheets shimmering like water in the sunlight, a calligraphic piece hung on the wall just above his pillow. You cannot read, but you know that the words are beautiful, far more elegant than Hakuryuu's work.  
  
And in the middle of the room sits Prince Hakuyuu, looking as just as grandiose as his surroundings. The Rukh around him burn so brightly that their feathers are white gold. Their pale glow washes over you, grips you so tightly that you only recall yourself belatedly, and you squeak when you remember to drop to your knees and bow your head. From behind you, Prince Hakuren gives a little laugh, then crouches down to pat your back. The feeling of an open palm makes your muscles tense, but he doesn't seem to notice.  
  
"It's all right, Beansprout. You don't have to bow so low, not even for Grumpy over there."  
  
You can hear the distaste in Hakuyuu's voice when he replies, "Your nicknames are getting worse and worse."  
  
"Still not as bad as your sense of humour."  
  
"Sure. Just wait until I'm Emperor." You sneak a glance at the elder brother and catch a glimpse of a smirk. "I'm certain that you'll be laughing at all my jokes then."  
  
"Yeah, because you'll have decreed it a law for me to do that." Hakuren, surprisingly, falls to the ground beside you, sitting cross-legged and casually. He's addressing you again, ignoring his brother. "Come on, now, Beansprout. Chin up. My brother's gotta see your face if he wants to talk to you."  
  
You hesitate. Hakuren is kind, perhaps as kind as his youngest brother, but Hakuyuu is another matter altogether. He is distant and solemn, with eyes that always make you remember your place. Still, the lines on his face seem a little less severe now, and when he addresses you, his voice seems less heavy, softer somehow.

"Yes. Hakuren is correct. You may be at ease.”  
  
Slowly, you raise your head, resisting every urge to flinch away from his severe gaze. Prince Hakuyuu leans into his chair, his chin resting in his right hand. For a moment, he simply watches you.

When he finally speaks, it is sudden and curt, and you are caught unaware.  
  
"I want to ask you about Chang'an."  
  
Your back straightens. The familiar name is enough to make your ears strain, your spine shudder.  
  
"Did you care at all for you former master?"

Your lips press together. For some reason, the old scars on your back and wrist sting as if new, echoing whips and cuffs.  
  
"No." It is the honest truth. Once upon a time, you realise, you would have bowed your head deep and said that you did, that you cared for the man who trained you and  _invested_  in your worthless self, but you are different now. Caring for someone is what Hakuryuu does for you and what you do for Hakuryuu, and the smiles that you give to him are completely different from the scared ones that you used to give your master. "No," you repeat. "I don't."  
  
"Good." Hakuyuu looks away, pausing. “There is no gentle way to deliver this news. Misfortune has struck your old master.”

“Misfortune?” Your mind works over the words. The Crown Prince speaks so beautifully—perhaps too beautifully for you to understand.

“Death,” Hakuyuu clarifies after a moment. “Your old master has died.”  
  
"H-huh?" Your eyes are full moons, luminous and bright. Your jaw is slack. You must have heard him wrong, you think. Your master can't be dead, not when you can still feel the sting of his backhand, not when you can still hear him at night, during the worst of your dreams. "Pardon?"  
  
Hakuren glances at you, and you turn to him for help. There's something in his eyes that reminds you a little bit of Hakuryuu, of a six year old boy who is equal parts compassionate and worried for you. Now he's facing his brother again, his lips as just as thin as yours.  
  
"That was too sudden, Hakuyuu—"  
  
"This is a matter of business,” Prince Hakuyuu cuts off sharply. “That's why we're in your room, and not any other." Hakuyuu rises from his seat, and he walks along the walls, passing a hand over the many weapons collected over the years. His fingers brush over one particularly ornate piece, and even in your cold shock, you can make out a flutter of green wing tips, the heartbeat of some Rukh. "Remember, Hakuren: even if we have some privacy here, you are still to address me as the First Prince."  
  
At his curtness, Hakuren bows his head, relents. "Yes, my lord," he says simply, and then he closes his eyes. "If I may suggest it, I believe that we should explain the circumstances of the slave revolt in Chang'an."  
  
"Re-revolt?" Confusion permeates your voice. Revolt is an odd word, one that Hakuryuu has said many times. It is foreign in its meaning to you, as strange as the thought that your former master is now resting in soil.   
  
"Yes." Hakuyuu watches you carefully. "Revolt is what happens when the people are unhappy with their rulers and want to remove them. The slaves decided that the men who traded you were no longer their rulers, and..." There is a pause, and you can tell that he is weighing options, deciding on his next word. "...they removed them." He straightens, and then the look in his eye seems relaxed once more, no longer focused on you. "As the heir to the throne, I'm concerned about this kind of behaviour in my country. Do you understand?"  
  
You don't. You don't know why the Crown Prince is so fascinated with someone as small as your old master, but you are in no place to disagree, so you simply nod. He seems satisfied as he returns the gesture.  
  
"Excellent. Then you'll understand that I want to know everything you can tell me about the men who traded you?"  
  
Another nod. "Yes. I remember much."  
  
Hakuren is interjecting now, a strange frown on his face.  
  
"And can we trust you to keep silent about this conversation?" He is looking at his brother now, and you aren't so sure if he's still speaking to you. "His former slaves have all been detained by Markkio and his men, and I agree that we must look further in how he ran business... but I wonder if it is right to get a child involved in such matters?"  
  
Hakuyuu turns away. His eyes are bitter steel, different from the warm and ostentatious blades on the wall. "I worry not about rightness or wrongness, but the state of the kingdom and empire. These slave and peasant revolts are unacceptable if we want to be a unified force, yet whenever I attempt diplomacy, I am blocked at every turn by those priests... I cannot even speak to those slaves without wondering if they are simply parroting Markkio’s words." Hakuyuu glances back to you, and it is difficult to keep your stare unyielding. "I trust that the servant of my youngest sibling is loyal to this family?"  
  
You bow. "Of course."

Hakuyuu's questions come quickly and confusingly. There is little rhyme or reason to them, and they are not about anything particularly difficult. He does not ask about the average price of a slave or the business model of your maker, but instead asks about who the girls are, where did you live, did you sleep enough, were you happy, and other things so insignificant that only Hakuryuu has ever asked about them.   
  
“Everything that your master did—was it all in Chang’an?”  
  
"I was always kept there, but he was given girls from foreign lands. There were a lot of girls from Former Kai and Go as well, especially after the war ended."  
  
His voice becomes sharp. "Only girls?" The accusing words are like a knife, but you are already used to the cruel tongue of your former master, and the kind hand of your current one has strengthened you. You do not cringe.  
  
"Only girls." You look down. "He said that we had the highest value, and that it was an easy way to 'produce more slaves'... I don't know how, though."  
  
Hakuyuu's mouth falls into a grimace, and he waves a hand. "Nevermind." As though trying to forget something, he looks away and starts anew, changing to a completely different topic. "How well did he feed you?"  
  
You pause a little, not expecting the question. "I was trained to say that I always had a full stomach, but that would be a lie," you begin, slow. "I was better fed than most of the girls. Even though I was often hungry, he still gave me three meals a day for my magical abilities. Otherwise, I would be too exhausted to train."  
  
"And the other girls?"  
  
"They didn't get much." You pause, remembering their meals: thin porridge, a little bit of dried meat, a slice of fruit if they had been good. "Their bellies ached every night," you finally say, and Hakuyuu's lips grow thinner still.  
  
"Did he mistreat you in other ways? How often did your master hit you?"  
  
"Every day and every night, for as long as I can remember."  
  
Hakuren looks away, finally rises from his casual seat on the floor, staring at you as you continue to speak. You almost miss the motion, because you are staring into the wall, your eyes caught by something far away, something that not even you can see. When he settles at the right arm of his brother, he asks his first question.   
  
"Did you and the slaves ever be want to be freed?"  
  
_Freedom._  That is another word that you have only recently learned from Hakuryuu, right along with  _abuse, mistreatment, revolt,_  and  _friend._  It catches in your throat for a moment, itching to warble with your vocal chords. It is a yes-or-no question, but a long answer tumbles out of your lips, each word quiet and careful: the closest thing to poetry a former slave can manage.  
  
"I never thought about things like that before I came here. I was always too scared, too focused on my next meal and my next beating… but I remember that the older girls liked to tell stories about princes saving people like us. All the tales are a little bit different. Sometimes we become queens, sometimes merchants, sometimes mothers... the endings aren't exactly the same, but they're never slaves by the end of it. They're free." You bite your lip, raise your voice. "I think that I wanted to be free without knowing it. I think all of us did."  
  
Prince Hakuyuu glances at his younger brother, a fleeting look passing between them.

Hakuren asks another question, and as he speaks, you notice that his face has changed. Despite the slant of his brows, his eyes are somehow softer.  
  
"And now that you're here, do you still want to escape?"  
  
You do not hesitate. You don't have to think before you answer, because you are no longer wearing a brown shirt, because you know that you aren't stupid, because you have a friend, because you are learning to read.  
  
Because you have Hakuryuu.  
  
"No, I don't think so." Your voice is nearly a whisper. "I am already free."


	11. Lotus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted chapter 10 immediately before this, so please be sure not to miss it!
> 
>  **Cultural notes:** The kanji/hanzi for Hakuren's and Hakuyuu's names mean "white lotus" and "white hero", respectively. What you say to Hakuren about the meaning of a lotus is also true to Chinese culture.

Some months after your encounter with the First Prince, Hakuren begins to act strangely.  
  
He returns prematurely from a campaign in the west—a task to quell the uprising of barbarians in Former Kai. He seeks you out before anyone else, and finds you playing in the gardens alone, pacing back and forth along one of the dingier dirt paths. With each step you take, fauna springs up and wilts around your feet, their lives fleeting before they curl into death. You barely even notice the ever-present tug of your _ki_ anymore, the same way you do not notice Hakuren's footsteps and long, afternoon shadow.  
  
"Hey, Beansprout." There's a low whistle. "You're getting better and better at those magic tricks each day."  
  
Your head snaps up at that, and you know who it is before you even meet his gaze. "Prince Hakuren!" you exclaim. Your forehead no longer touches the ground when you bow. You feel a familiar tap on your shoulder, impatient and exasperated.

"Hey now, Beansprout, what have I told you about bowing so low?"

You try not to flush.  
  
"I am sorry." You lift your head. "I was surprised."  
  
He gives you his grin, then crouches down so that his face is right before yours. "Didn't expect to see me back so soon, huh?"  
  
"No." Your feet scuff against the ground, and you look away. "But I am happy to see you back, Prince Hakuren. I always like to spend time with you."  
  
Hakuren blinks, then gives a chortle loud enough to make you jump. "Oh,  _no!_  Don't tell me you talk like that to Hakuryuu. You'll ruin him for any matches our father will try to make for him." Bright-eyed, one his fingers comes to rest on his chin. "Now I understand why it's so easy to get him flustered over you."  
  
You stare at him, again feeling too slow for his clever jokes. He only tilts his head and rests his hand on your shoulder again.  
  
"I guess you're harder to tease than my younger brother, hm?"  
  
"Perhaps." Pausing, you look away, still all-around confused. You don't understand when he teased you, and you don't know why he's here, and why he's talking to a person like yourself instead of his eminent kin. Many months ago, you would have kept your head low and stayed silent, but now, you find yourself looking up at him, your quiet voice slipping through your teeth like water. "This may be rude of me, my prince, but... I'm wondering why you're back? I thought that you would be in Former Kai by now."  
  
Hakuren frowns, then straightens up. He holds his hands behind his back, and then nods his head toward the main path of the garden. "Walk with me," he says, and the little, white birds surrounding him seem to fly ahead, carving out a path around one of the ponds in the garden that he follows. As you chase his lead, you avert your gaze, wondering if you have made an error in asking him for his purpose. You try to seem interested in the surface of the water, decorated by lily pads and lotus petals.  
  
His eyes, on the other hand, are pointed carefully forward when he clears his throat.

"You're an eighth-type magician, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, Prince Hakuren."  
  
"That's good." But he is not smiling. "How are you with the other types of magic?"  
  
Feeling distinctly like you are being tested, your fingers interlock, curling nervously together.

"I show some affinity for lightning magic, like all life magicians. I have difficulty with all other types, especially fire." Your head droops, almost instinctively, as though the harsh priests of Al-Thamen are walking alongside the Second Prince. "I am working hard to improve myself. I want to train myself and serve your brother faithfully."  
  
The hard and foreign look in Hakuren's eyes seems to yield at the words. In your peripheral vision, you can see him following your line of sight, and his eyes come to rest on the flowers sitting atop the water as he speaks.  
  
"I'm glad that you're loyal to Hakuryuu. He doesn't have many true allies or servants." At that, your eyebrows nearly knot together, and he smiles at the look on your face. "I know that probably sound strange to you, but a prince has many false friends. Hakuryuu has yet to understand just how many people are only kind to him for his status, but I fear that he will soon discover it.”  
  
Your fingers play with one another, and you bite your lip, unsure of what to make of his words.  
  
"My brother, lately, has been having some strange thoughts about Hakuryuu's role as a prince as well." His smile quickly dissolves, and now he has stopped, sighing. "That's not to say that Hakuyuu doesn't love Hakuryuu, but I think that he's planning to give him a heavy burden for his age. I fear for Hakuyuu as well. He's changed some laws recently, and he's becoming popular with the people, moreso than our father ever was. I, too, am rising quickly. I am a prominent general now, and ready to assume my role in helping my brother rule." His hands tighten into a fist, and if you weren't so well schooled in retaining composure, you would be shrinking away right now. "There are people who are unhappy with that."  
  
"The false friends?"  
  
"You catch on quick, Beansprout. That's good." He flashes you a smile. "But they have nothing to do with you. I'll handle it. But I want you to protect Hakuryuu, if things come to the worst." He crouches down, and instead of asking you to look at his face, he seeks yours out. "I'm not like Prince Hakuyuu. I won't command you to do anything, but I also know that I won't have to, right?"  
  
He stops speaking, and you take the opportunity to nod. For some reason, you feel as though your breath has disappeared.

"I only want to support my prince until the end."  
  
Hakuren smiles. When he begins to walk again, his hands have relaxed.  
  
"You know, Beansprout," he begins, "much like you, I was named after a flower myself."  
  
Beansprouts aren't flowers, and that was only a nickname that he gave to you, but you decide not to protest. "White lotus," you voice instead, and his eyes widen slightly. At that, you add, "Prince Hakuryuu has insisted that I learn how to read. I learned how to write the names of the Imperial Family first."  
  
His loud laugh comes back, and you feel your heart unclench.

"You know, my name doesn't sound that feminine, but I didn't like the meaning for the longest time. It didn't feel manly enough, you know? I wanted to be like Hakuyuu. 'White hero'! What a good name for a great prince." He gives a low chuckle. "But I was born the second son, so I guess I'm less impressive, hm?"  
  
"I like your name, Prince Hakuren," you protest. "There are many poems written about the lotus and how it grows up through the mud, pure! Prince Hakuryuu told me so."  
  
"Oh?" He tilts his head. "You and Hakuryuu are better students than I ever was. I'm impressed, Beansprout. Maybe I should have named  _you_  after a lotus instead." You almost yelp when you feel a hand running through your hair, making it fall into disarray, but you manage to keep your voice down. "It suits you too. You're growing up well. And! It would have probably made Hakuryuu even  _more_  upset."   
  
He grins at you, but you don't know why Hakuren would want to make Hakuryuu any more upset or red-faced than he already is. Instead, you only shrug.   
  
"Thank you, my prince, but I don't think that such a noble namesake would suit someone as lowly as a slave."  
  
"Hey now, that's not true. Someday, you're going to be a freedman," he starts, holding a finger up. "And when that day comes, you won't be obligated to serve Hakuryuu anymore, because our family owns you as slave-masters."  
  
At that, your footsteps stop. "There is no reason for your family to free me. Prince Hakuryuu suggests as much sometimes, but I..." Your voice becomes small. "I'm happy here."  
  
"Don't worry. You'll always have a place among this household as a servant, I'm sure...” He pauses, considering. “…and in any case, none of us have a choice in this. Prince Hakuyuu has changed the laws. Slavery within the Kou Empire is humane now. Slaves cannot be mistreated, and five years from either the beginning of their enslavement or the passage of this law, they must be freed." The smile that he wears when he turns back to you reminds you a tiny bit of his youngest sibling. "Does that make you happy?"  
  
You end up saying yes, because it is what Hakuryuu would have wanted you to say. You end up parting ways with him confused, because you  _still_  don't know why Prince Hakuren sought you out, told you about matters that you only half-understood, asked you to protect Prince Hakuryuu. You end up leaving him to his task of seeking out the First Prince, and you don't think about the matter for the rest of the afternoon, too busy practicing your magic spells.   
  
You end up regretting the conversation, regretting not speaking up more, not asking him all the questions in your mind, because it is the last time you ever talk to him. It is the last time you get to see his fox-like smile and hear his too-clever jokes.

It is the last time, because that night, Prince Hakuren Ren is murdered in his own palace.


	12. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted chapters 10 and 11 just before this, so please be sure not to miss them!
> 
> Since the first arc is now beginning to end, I'd also like to cite this song as a very big inspiration for this fic: [Tacke - Pian Xian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwyZtBLaNBU&t).

 

That night, everything ends.

The languid, carefree days of playing in the garden are gone. The goldfish swim away from you, perhaps fleeing permanently, as you wade through the stream desperately. The reeds die in the wake that you leave, your magoi reaching out in your panic, a killing mess.   
  
The fire is one of the biggest that the Imperial Palace has ever seen. The scorching flames bring a terrible light to the garden, and if it weren't for the smoke, you are sure that it would illuminate the sky like a second sun.

As you stumble through the tall grasses and shallow pond, your feet soaked with water and the blood of white lotuses, you try and make out where the fire is brightest. A part of you already knows, but  _no, no, no, it can't be there, it can't be them._  
  
You can see it, though. You can see the core of the flames, the windows from which the thickest plumes of smoke are escaping. You know that the heart of the fire rests in Prince Hakuren's chamber, the last one in the palace protected by green Rukh, the room that was supposed to be safe from his false friends and mother's priests.  
  
_I'll handle it,_  you remember him saying, and if you weren't running so fast, already dry heaving and gasping for breath, you would be screaming at him, calling him a fox-faced liar.   
  
_But I want you to protect Hakuryuu, if things come to the worst._  
  
Your push through fleeing crowds of servants, all cowards, all disloyal. Someone calls your name, perhaps one of the serving ladies. A hand reaches out to grab you, but it is caught by wrathful vines sprouting up from the wooden floorboards.  _"Leave me alone!"_  you scream, and you're too busy running to be surprised at how loud your voice is, how belligerent you are. It doesn't matter to you anymore. The only master—the only  _person_ —for whom you have ever cared, whom has ever cared about you, is caught in that fire with his two brothers, and you have to protect him.  
  
You are seared as you stumble through the deserted corridor, the sweat boiling clean off your skin by the time you reach Hakuren's chambers.

" _Unlock_!" you cry in the strange language of Torran, waving your wand at the door and willing the Rukh to open the heated entrance. " _Unlock_!" But the orders are too complex, and the birds around you only tug uselessly at the unyielding wood before being swallowed by angry flames.   
  
It is the fire itself that flings the doors open for you. A blast of heat hits your face, choking you and burning you from the inside, and the only thing that stops the inflamed doors from killing you is a sphere of light that appears around you. It is your  _borg,_  like the priests' shields, but bright instead of dark. From inside the membrane of light, the flames feel cooler, and the moment you realise that the red Rukh cannot touch you like this, you dash into the room, screaming at the top of your lungs.  
  
_"Prince Hakuryuu!"_  
  
_Stay quiet, wench, if you want to live. You better not scream in front of the First Prince, or else he'll never take you._  
  
"PRINCE HAKURYUU! Please tell me where you are!"  
  
_Two years 'til I start training! Then I'll be able to protect you!_  
  
_"HAKURYUU!"_  
  
_If she does not cooperate, she will respond readily to the whip._  
  
You find him in the centre of the room. You try your best not to look at the two larger bodies on the floor, try not to breathe in the coppery scent in the air. To you credit, you do not scream when you see that Hakuryuu is drenched with blood, his body lacquered red like the doors. Instead, you reach out and pull at his shoulders.  
  
_I cried after having a nightmare a week ago. Enemies killed my whole family._  
  
_"Prince Hakuryuu!"_  You are begging him now, something that you thought he would never make you do. "Please! We have to go! I have to heal you! We can't stay here!"  
  
_Hey! Please look at me._  
  
He turns to you, and finally, you can see his face. One of his eyes is hidden by his small, white fingers, and the other one is wide open, manic, and afraid. You've seen the same look in some of your dead master's sing-song girls after he's had too much to drink. You think you have worn the same look yourself, hiding from his violent fists with the other slaves. You know what Hakuryuu is feeling when his free hand takes the wrist of the regal corpse at his feet, what he is thinking when he shakes his head.   
  
"I can't leave them," he whispers, and you feel a stabbing pain in your chest. For a moment, you are caught by the pitch black gaze of Hakuren Ren's body, cold and unyielding.   
  
_You should smile more. You're much prettier like that._  
  
Eyes closed, you whisper, "Please, Hakuryuu." And now you are pulling at him, the cloth of his robes balled up in your fists. "You have to live."  
  
"But I couldn't do anything," he tells you, and his remaining eye begins to glint in the roaring light. Somehow, it is only now that you see the dew in it, dotting the one petal left.  
  
_I know you're my servant, but I also want us to be friends._  
  
"I beg you, my prince." Your voice is at the quietest that it has ever been tonight, a shivering plea. "I know I'm only your servant, but you're my only friend. You have to live. You can't die. Prince Hakuren didn't want you to die! Neither of them did, so please come with me!"   
  
It is midnight when the two of you flee the death trap, enveloped by the glow of your borg. Your shield falls apart as the two of you stumble outside, panting from the heat in your lungs and bitter cries in your throats. Like claw-roots in your skin, the capillaries on your face have swollen up, reaching for your eyes. Sweat cold, fingers numb, you feel the remnants of your  _ki_  leaving your body, squandered into channeling more Rukh. They dance with the energy of your life, fluttering about Hakuryuu's half-burned face and soothing his wilted eye. Your lungs are filled with smoke and your head is dizzy with fatigue, but your wand is still a lantern in the darkness, lighting up his tears.  
  
"Shh... shh..." As you try to hush the prince, countless words from dead and dying men continue to stream through your mind.  _Nothing lives forever,_  you suddenly remember, and as you hold the crying boy's face in your hands, you realise that no matter how hard you try to heal him, he will be half-blind from now on.


End file.
